Grand Bahama in 1917

horned lady, who jumped a wall and ran into the bush. For four solid hours tehy chased her! After I had been sitting in the blazing sun for two hours I asked them whether they would wait for me to while I went to ahve breakfast. They said they would do that if I was quick, so I gulped down hominy and bacon and arrived just as, with much shouting, they were driving the cow towards me at full speed!
Suddenly she veered round and escaped them again.
And once more I had to sit and wait in the burning glare and heat, for the moment they caught that cow they would depart.
They could wait for her, but not for me!
At last they got her lassoed, and in a wonderful way they leapt into their boat and dragged her in the water behind them. How she was put on deck I did not see, but when I got on board she was meekly standing tied by her horns to the foremast,

The vessel was as clean as a new pin; it had just been painted inside and out and one could but admire the taste with which this had been done. White and blue were the chief colours; grey for the deck, and blue and white picked out with scarlet and yellow for the cabin; all shades mixed to just teh right tones: why could not the Mail be like this?
The billowing sails were new and white and all the people were cleanly dressed and gay. Their cargo was sponges, coconuts, limes and so on, and they expected to make Nassau in twenty-four hours as we had a fair wind and plenty of it.
If I had not been afraid I could have enjoyed that journey.

A it was I lay on my back upon my mattress, my hat over my face to keep off the glare, and held/ tightly to a rope for fear of being thrown over-board when the vessel lurched!
The cow, I noticed, shared my feelings.
I heard one of the peopel say to another: "The white folks tinks we don't love life too."
"We love life or light!" said another, "we ain't taking no risks".
Then one of the group came over and reassured me.
"Dere ain't notting to fear, please Gawd!."

We took the whole of that day stopping at little places along the coast. At one we took on a boatload of unripe grapefruit. At another we took on a black cow and a black pig, which were tied to the mast with the first cow. At last it seemed as if the small vessel could hold no more. But again we stopped, while some of the men and women went ashore to join a ring-dance that was in full swing along the water's edge.
The refrain reached us and everyone on board, except the two cows and the pig, beat time to it with clapping hands, with beating a barrel, a tin basin, or with the feet and the whole swaying body.
"Whosoever shall pick up de stick
Mama lick, baby lick,
       Rougey, Rougey."
This was for the rhythm, of course, more than for the sense of the words.
The boats going to and fro amid laughter and greetings passed away at least an hour and a half. Meanwhile the barometer was falling.

All on board were like one happy family, calling each other "Brudder," "Sister", and when later on/ I had mal de mer they were as gentle to me as to a child and called me "sister" too! But with no undue familiarity.
With their food they shared and shared alike—and offered it to me also and I of course offered mine to them. There was no flirting on either trip—no loose behaviour at all. A young man was very attentive to one charming girl, who kept her dignity in a quiet way, and that was all.
The men took turns with the babies and waited on their women gallantly.
Many of the women were ill when we got into the ocean, but all of them were modest and well-mannered.
I never heard one word of swearing coming or going. {I am told that I travelled on an exceptionally "nice" boat..}

They watched every cloud and every breeze and the surface of the water too. Just before we left the last port and set sail for the open sea, I heard the captain mutter that he was "scared along ob de barometer." And for a while we were in doubt whether he would cast anchor and wait, or make a dash for it.
The mate and two others and the chief put their heads together and discussed the question. A great deal of their talk was nautical, but at length I heard a man saying: "If so be's you'se lived good an' near to Gawd, can't come no harm, an' if a man don't live near to Gawd he'll go to the bottom anyway, when de time comes." At which the captain, solemnly agreeing, hitched up his trousers, tightened his belt, settled his cap on more securely and ordered them to dowahtever sailors do for getting under way!/

I have sailed in many craft and in amny seas and I never saw finer seamanship that these seemed to ahve. They would appear careless to the casual onlooker, possibly, but to one who had experience in sailing it was clear that they handled their craft with the ease that comes when work has become second nature.
As we sped away to the merciless ocean the sun was setting in a balze of violent orange, pale emerald and lemon-yellow.
The women rocking sleeping babies were crooning softly to them and the men were singing low to themselves.
As the stars begant to come out I realized what such a trip might mean, in one's own vessel, with the right companion! Even as it was, and in spite of what happened later on in the night, to me there comes somewhat of that peace which passeth understanding, for the rhythm of the sea and the wind syncopated with the moving of the sun, with the movements of the people (to say nothing of my fellow passengers the cows and the pig).

As night fell the impending storm gathered force.
Not one wink did I sleep—nor did the crew close their eyes. Every change of the wind was noted anxiously, and every little while the man at the wheel exchanged whispers with the chief. They steered aprtly by the stars and aprtly by a compass in a box set between the steersman's feet and lihhted by a dingy alntern. Both lantern and compass, it seemed to me, might go overbaord at every lurch.
Now and again a wave swept the deck, and we were all pretty wet before morning!/

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